


Everlasting, like the sun

by Cammerel



Series: Hartwin VampWere AU [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: About a movie accurate amount of violence rly, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood Drinking, Human Trafficking, M/M, Vampire Harry Hart, Virgin Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/Cammerel
Summary: “‘Kind-eyed vampire’,” Hamish says in annoyance, “‘Vampire with a heart’. Don’t you think you sound ridiculous enough already?”“I rather like their little terms of endearment,” Harry admits and sits back in his seat, “It’s quite fitting. And rather that than… what was it again?”“The gaping void of black holes, Chester King,” Hamish holds his hand out to the painting of the man and then sneers, “I suppose it /is/ better. Catchier, too. Hashtag ‘MyKindEyedVamp’ is all over twitter. People won’t stop posting repeat gifs of the look on y’er face when that young lad asked about y’er sex life there at the end.”Harry clears his throat, “Yes, well, I don’t know what they were expecting me to respond with.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has some trigger warnings, see below what they are if you’re concerned about possible triggers:  
> Slavery, child abuse and rape (mentioned only)
> 
>  
> 
> **Things of note:**
> 
>  
> 
> Eggsy never called in his favor and ended up doing his time.
> 
> Harry is still a virgin, sorry, I can’t help it, it’s a problem.
> 
> Vampires and Werewolves are a regular part of society, but are often at ends and their fights/wars have negative effects on the human populace. Humans are becoming fewer and far between. This is not a Slave AU but it certainly has elements.
> 
> Relationships with Werewolves and humans is not unheard of, but with Vampires… it’s deeply shamed in most cultures, including London. That doesn’t stop it from happening sometimes, tho.
> 
> Kingsman is split between Vampires and Werewolves who have been at odds for decades, but both refuse to change their names out of a sense of pride and loyalty… until now.

**APRIL**

“Is there any way I can talk you out of doing this?”

Harry glances at Hamish for only a brief second, then shakes his head, “This is a necessary change, Barlow. One you saw coming the moment I was voted in.”

“You do realize that it’ll get a lot worse before it gets better, don’t you?”

“I’m aware.”

“This may be more than you’re prepared to handle.”

“An outrageous assumption, Barlow,” Harry responds, gaze tightening, “If I want to affect change, then I must be willing to take the risks necessary to do so. Mankind needs it. We need it. The werewolves need it, though they may refuse to admit it.”

Hamish sighs in frustration, scratching just above his eyebrow in a very human manner, “You don’t think /changing/ the title and logo was enough? /More than enough/?”

“Nonsense,” Harry quips, hands clasped together calmly in his lap, “That was merely an olive branch; something to get my foot in the door, as it were.”

“I’m aware of your love for walking blood bags, but do you really have to condemn the rest of us as well?”

“Such a crude term to use for them, isn’t it?” Harry observes, “If you would refrain-”

“Of course,” Hamish says somewhat sarcastically.

“I believe your wife is one of them, is she not?”

“She is.”

Harry turns to him slowly then, “Then why be so close-minded?”

“She’s just as against it as I am.”

“That does not give you any excuse whatsoever to speak about them with such disrespect.”

“I have every respect for where my meal comes from,” Hamish says somewhat coldly, “Just as much respect as I had when I was human, for vegetables and cattle and chickens.”

Harry stares at him blankly.

“Oh come off it, you know how I feel about this sort of thing.”

“You need to tone it back, please,” Harry says firmly and holds up a hand, “I’ll not have you referring to them with slanderous words, disrespect, and questioning my changes. And while I respect your point of view and your opinion, I ask that you keep both /completely/ discreet until the moment when we are in a private setting alone, such as this. And never, I repeat - /never/ - in the presence of another human. Apart from your wife, of course.”

“Understood.”

“Good,” Harry allows himself to relax once more, “We /must/ make the first move. We were in the wrong, first.”

Hamish grumbles, looking back to his tablet, but Harry smiles when he catches something along the lines of ‘not wrong’ interspersed within the rest of the squabble. Most of it is actual, genuine nonsense, but he also catches ‘freedom fighter’ and ‘human lover’.

“I /do/ love humans,” Harry says then, “I was once one, as were you. My mother died one - and I loved her so, so dearly.”

“Yes, yes, you were a mum’s boy til the very end, I know, I know.”

“And our continued existence relies on humans entirely.”

“Only because they’re our meal ticket.”

“Stop, please,” Harry closes his eye, shaking his head, “I can’t have my right hand speaking of them that way. I /can’t/.”

Hamish actually looks apologetic then, “I didn’t mean to upset you, Ruthven.”

“Seems like you will have to go through the training course just as well as the others,” Harry says, lips drawn in tight, “Let’s get this over with then, shall we?”

“After you, sir.”

Harry touches his shoulder, “You’ve been a dear friend, Barlow,” he responds, tone low and soft, “Trust me when I say that this change is a good one.”

“I do trust you. I don’t trust /others/.”

“You’ll have to learn to, I suppose,” Harry stands from his seat, checks his tie and his jacket, then walks out to the large crowd gathered, the news reporters, stepping up onto the podium and addressing the people, “My fellow beings,” he smiles slightly, “My name is Harry Hart, and today marks my first full day in office as the representative of what was once known as the segregated Vampire half of Kingsman.

“Things are going to change with me at the head of this vital organization. And I fully intend to affect changes immediately, starting with our once working title - a mouthful if you ask me,” the people in front of him laugh, some looking surprised, others looking confused, “From this day going forward, we will be known as _Glenarvon._ And as daunting as that may seem, I am taking on this title with full intentions to change the narrative of so many unwarranted assumptions of my kind.

Harry meets a few reporters open gazes, maintaining as much warmth in his cold dead one-eyed gaze as he possibly can, “By changing our name to this, consider it my way of taking what we are assumed to be, putting it center stage so that we never forget why humans feared us in the first place, and to also prove to you that we are, in fact, for the most part, the opposite. That said, I will be quite a change from what you’re used to seeing from us.

I was born of this organization from the very start, as a human I served for thirty-three years and had fully planned to retire from it, possibly catch up on a few good theatre shows, have a life, but instead my life was taken from me - or, my life as I had known it. My current state was granted to me by the very organization I had prided myself on being apart of for most of my life. I had put everything on hold for it, stood firmly in the line of duty, and thrived there. I also died there. And I will continue to serve in this manner until my true death.

I am very unlike my predecessor. I will try to make those of you viewing my conferences as comfortable as I can while not hiding what I am. I am not going to pretend to be human for you, because I am not human. I don’t need to breathe and you won’t see me pretend to do so, and - as an apology beforehand - you will find that I can be quite long-winded because of this.”

Most of the crowd laughs, a few clapping.

“Yes, thank you,” Harry says somewhat teasingly, “I’m glad to know that my neverending rants will be accepted and understood by those of you here today. A dear friend once told me that they can be somewhat Lincoln-esque,” more laughter, “-that my droning voice has been known to put him to sleep is one of my greatest accomplishments because, you see, he’s also a vampire like myself,” even more laughter.

 _“Cheeky bastard,”_ Hamish mutters.

“Nevertheless, today I stand before you in hopes of proving to you that, though I have no heart beating in my chest, it does not mean I am soulless and in lack of empathy. And that that goes the same for others of my kind. We have been cold in the past, we have been ruthless, we have been killers - but that is not who we are. We are vampires. And you’ll find that we, in many ways, are just like you. We make mistakes, we get upset, we get sad, we follow our hearts, we get annoyed at book-to-movie-adaptations, we laugh just as hard at viral videos of cats doing stupid things.”

The crowd laughs again.

Harry allows another smile to grace his face, “I know you all have thousands of questions already, and in the past you have been turned away here, but… I’m quite a lonely vampire and I don’t talk to people often, so I’m open to your questions,” his openness is greeted with even more laughter, “I welcome them, in fact, I want them. Please,” he holds his arm out to a young woman raising her microphone, “Go ahead.”

He can hear Hamish groan miserably.

“Mr. Hart, are you looking at all to settle the differences between Vampire-kind and Werewolf-kind here in London?”

“Absolutely I am,” Harry says firmly, catching a few gasps and shocked exchanges, “As I said before, but did not expand on too terribly much, I am very unlike what was once known as our ‘Arthur’. He was a cold, miserable old bat,” laughter, “I have always been welcoming to different kinds of people. I have nothing but open arms for my brethren, the werewolf community, and humans as well. No one should be looked down on because of what they are. Their actions are what define them.”

Harry motions for the next question.

“When you say that you have open arms to both humans and werewolves alike,” the woman says tentatively, “Do you mean to say that you plan to work towards a future where equality is assumed and no longer desired?”

“I don’t think I could’ve said it better myself,” Harry nods shortly, “Mum was a human and I loved her deeply, and even if she hadn’t been - if that were at all possible - I would still have a deep respect for humans. There is nothing quite like the human spirit, is there? I feel the same about werewolves. I would never look down on ones with such deep sentient emotions. Next question, please.”

“Are you prepared at all for the backlash from your own community with such a strong opinion on equality?”

Harry lifts a brow, “I am quite prepared. I have a very strong opinion and I’ve been told on numerous occasions that I’m a stubborn arse,” laughter from the crowd, “Yes, I’m more than prepared for possible backlash. They are free to try and oppose me, I welcome a challenge. But I warn you,” he looks directly to one camera, “I’m not so easy to bully. You might find that I’m multiple centuries your senior, and though I may look older than Chester King physically, I /am/ older than he was, and I don’t take kindly to bullies. Next question.”

“What was your original handle in _Kingsman_ and what will the handles for… _Glenarvon_... be from here on out?”

/Ah, of course./

Kingsman handles had become something of a hot topic issue when the organization split up and both sides refused to back down from their assumed ownership.

The Arthur before Chester King, Richie Valen, had left both sides under the assumption that it was up to their kind to either finally take up the mantle or continue the tradition of a vampire being the head of the organization respectively.

Neither had backed down.

The end results were somewhat catastrophic.

Some of it was quite a public affair - although it had not been planned in such a way - but barely the tip of the iceberg, as it were, reached the general human/vampire/werewolf population.

“I was _Galahad_ ,” Harry offers, “I was also the original, initial _Galahad_ before the organization split in two and had been since the very start of it. We’re not going to be releasing knowledge of handles from here on out for the new organization, though, I’m afraid that’ll have to remain a mystery. Next question?”

“Are you going to be reaching out to the Statesman as well?”

“I’ve already spoken to Champ a few times as of late,” Harry tells the younger man, “He’s known me for over a hundred years and we go way back. He’s a great man and we look forward to continuing our long term relationship with the agency in America. Next question?”

“Have you, yourself, killed werewolves before? What about humans, for that matter?”

“I’ve killed more vampires than both those combined and possibly doubled, I’d imagine. Next question.”

The woman that speaks then is nervous at first, but pipes up when others around her go quiet, “Do you mind personal questions?”

“Not at all, please,” Harry motions openly to her.

“Are you single?”

Harry actually blinks at this - something vampires don’t really need to do but something that has remained within him as a reaction at times in moments of shock and/or surprise.

A few of the people around the woman back from her.

“I’m n-not asking for me,” the reporter recovers, cheeks red, “You seem like a very open man. And as the head of the vampire organization, I’m just wondering if you’ve been able to carry on your ideals through the Hart family bloodline.”

“You want to know about my heritage?”

It isn’t really something anyone /ever/ would’ve imagined trying to ask Chester King, that’s for sure.

“Don’t we do the same with royalty, celebrities, internet stars, singers?” the woman lists off, “Are you not the same?”

“Perhaps,” Harry seems to agree, then glances to the side to see Hamish nod to him, so he looks back to the crowd, “What would you like to know, specifically? I’ll share as much as I can but I can’t promise you that it’ll be at all interesting.”

“How old are you? Any family?”

“Well, I’m over a thousand years old, no brothers or sisters, no children to speak of either. I don’t have a human bloodline anymore, not a strong one, at least. My family line was very reserved and even my first and second cousins eventually died out and thinned back in the 1900’s. Part of the curse it is to be so pale-skinned, I’m afraid.”

A few people laugh, some recovering from their initial disgust at the question.

“Any sired vampires to speak of?”

Harry shakes his head, “No, no, not at all.”

“Any chance you’ll answer the age-old question about vampires?” another woman asks.

Harry blinks, “Pardon? What question would that be?”

Before she can answer, another young man presses in, speaking over her, “Okay, okay, enough. I’ve got an actual /relevant/ question.”

Harry glances at him.

“What are you going to do about _The Bleeding Heart_?”

“An excellent question,” Harry straightens back up, “Let’s just say you’ll have your answer for that in…” he looks to Hamish, then back to the crowd, “One week.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Vampire Organization Breaks Down Blood Farm**

**_With a new head at the front of its organization,_ Glenarvon _\- once known as_ The Segregated Vampires of Kingsman _\- started off their first month by taking down one of the most infamous blood farms in London,_ The Bleeding Heart _._**

**__** _Harry Hart, whom people are now calling ‘the Kind-eyed vampire’, has already made his place in history by standing by human rights and seeking out a partnership with both Kingsman’s Werewolves and Statesman, as well as the Werewolf branch of agencies in Canada and South America._

_But after less than two weeks in office, he organized the capture of over two thousand vampires running an illegal blood farm that has been terrorizing human-kind in London._

_In a press conference today, Mr. Hart spoke of the already on-going process of releasing human victims to a rehabilitation agency for survivors of Vampire practices, which is both managed and run by human-kind -_ The Open Heart Rehabilitation Center _. He has also already donated money from his personal funds to assist in the effort._

_The vampire with a heart spoke of plans to expand his organization’s focus towards the second largest blood farm known of in London,_ Red Spot _..._

* * *

Harry glances up from his slate and smiles tightly at Hamish, “Yes?”

“‘Kind-eyed vampire’,” Hamish says in annoyance, “‘Vampire with a heart’. Don’t you think you sound ridiculous enough already?”

“I rather like their little terms of endearment,” Harry admits and sits back in his seat, “It’s quite fitting. And rather that than… what was it again?”

“The gaping void of black holes, Chester King,” Hamish holds his hand out to the painting of the man and then sneers, “I suppose it /is/ better. Catchier, too. Hashtag ‘MyKindEyedVamp’ is all over twitter. People won’t stop posting repeat gifs of the look on y’er face when that young lad asked about y’er sex life there at the end.”

Harry clears his throat, “Yes, well, I don’t know what they were expecting me to respond with.”

“Humans will always be curious of how the other half lives,” Hamish waves dismissively, “And ye’ve went and opened yerself up to the public in the first interview, I doubt they’ll remain so tame, give it time.”

“They’ll be severely disappointed.”

“Yes, well, if it was anyone else, they wouldn’t.”

Harry chuckles and shrugs, “Would you like to go up an answer their questions next time, then?”

“Not at all,” Hamish says, looking down to his own slate, “No, I don’t think I’d enjoy that at all.”

“Guess they’ll have to settle for my bland answers, then. No life, no sex life, no soul scent…”

“It doesn’t happen to everyone.”

Harry shakes his head, “Least of all me,” he stands from his seat, walking around the desk, “I didn’t have it in my human life, why would I have it now?”

“Are ye gettin’ lonely in y’er old age?”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s not too late to find a good mate,” Hamish says then, frowning, “Soul scent or not, when was the last time you drank from the vein?”

“You know better than anyone that that was just last week.”

“/Outside/ of a mission, of course.”

Harry purses his lips, leaning back on his desk and crossing his arms over his chest. He goes completely still, trying to think as far back as he can. /The last, the last…/

“The Vault.”

Hamish’s brows go up, “You mean back in /1912/?”

“Yes,” Harry agrees, nodding, “That was the last time.”

“That was the /first/ time.”

“As it should be.”

“That cannot be healthy,” Hamish’s brows narrow, “Ye’ve never-”

“Can we /not/ have this discussion?” Harry clears his throat, “I’m very aware of your wife and how that works, thank you.”

“Guess that explains the lack of darkness to some of y’er complexion, more purple where there would be /black/ if ye fed as often from the vein as ye should. You could be stronger.”

“I don’t need to be,” Harry turns away, walking across the room and staring out into the darkness of the castle grounds, “I’m as strong as is required by rule. And I’m plentiful on missions. You have your lifestyle… and I have mine.”

Hamish is next to him then, offering a sympathetic look, “That’s not a /life/style. It can’t be, when ye’re not living.”

“I’ll never be living again.”

“You know what I mean,” Hamish defends himself, “What y’er doing is surviving, not /really/ living.”

“I’ll manage,” Harry glances at him, “It’s not like I’m going without something I’ve had before.”

Hamish gives him a look of stunned silence and Harry finally excuses himself from the room, grabbing his slate from the desk and leaving the other vampire to stew in his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	3. Chapter 3

**JULY**

“Are there any other blood farms you have your sights on, Mr. Hart?”

“Our primary focus is on _Red Spot_ , currently,” Harry tells the man, “But _Pulse_ , _Velvet_ , /and/ _The Copper Drag_ are on the list, for sure. I won’t rest until humans are no longer looked at as an easy meal. Next question?”

“How long would you say an operation like this should take? _The Bleeding Heart_ bust seemed to happen so quickly, but now it’s been months and there’s been no news from you about your current investigation.”

Harry purses his lips, tilting his head just slightly, “I had been investigating _The Bleeding Heart_ myself for some time,” he admits, “It was a case given to me by Chester King and he didn’t fully intend to do anything with it for some time. I waited a long, /long/ time for him to give me permission to move ahead with the case but he let it go cold.”

A few reporters make disgusted, disappointed sounds.

“My sentiments exactly,” Harry agrees, “I was a bit of a loose cannon sometimes, though. The smaller arrest of the Flat Gang back in December was because I got tired of trailing them and listening to their activities and constantly being told I could do nothing. So I staged a… somewhat spontaneous solo rescue mission that may or may not have been given the green light.”

Some of the people in the crowd chuckle and laugh.

Harry shrugs, smiling sheepishly, “The moment I was sworn in, I took the shot I had waited for from Chester King for so long. It was well overdue. So, I don’t know how long it could take with _Red Spot_. They certainly have similarities, but they are buckling down after everything that’s just happened to the largest blood farm organization in London’s recent history. They know they’ve been targeted, they know I’m after them. But… well, that won’t be enough to stop me, I can promise you that. Next question?”

“Why have you taken such an approach to blood trafficking? As a vampire, surely you drink human blood just as the rest of them do.”

Harry nods slightly, “Didn’t expect that question at /all/,” he teases and a few people laugh, “No, I /do/ drink human blood - of course, I have to,” he admits, “I drink from donations to our organization, which are collected often by humans that pay for their services.”

“Why not from animals?” another asks and a few people chuckle or make sounds of annoyance.

“Yes, yes, a myth, I’m afraid,” Harry tells the man, “Just a myth. We can /only/ consume human blood. Much like humans cannot be given animal blood as a substitute when wounded. It wouldn’t kill us, but we would gain nothing of value, like eating food or drinking water, our body would simply reject it.”

Another woman with her raised hand smiles when Harry motions to her next, “With your sight set on blood farms for the time being, do you have any other focuses further down the line? Blood trade hasn’t been the only threat from your kind, there are the drug concerns as well, fledglings and abandoned newborn vampires, the cult-like practices of _House Charlot_ , things of that nature.”

Harry opens his mouth to speak when he’s suddenly hit by a strong, overwhelming scent, his focus homing in on an exchange at the gated entrance to the grounds.

_“I just need to talk to him, please.”_

He opens his mouth again. His throat /burns/.

_“It’s important.”_

Harry feels his teeth start to sharpen and a few people around him gasp.

“I… I… apologize,” Harry covers his mouth, “Forgive me.”

_“Oh come on, bruv. What’s the point in ‘uman rights if the common folk can’t share some **insight**?”_

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says and drops his head, trying to focus back in, “ _Black_ on the market has been a concern for a while now. I’m welcoming fledglings in almost every day is seems, and _House Charlot_ …” he glances away, teeth itching, stopping suddenly when he hears the voice again, struggling now.

_“Please-ow, hey, let me go.”_

Harry moves from the podium, walking through the splitting crowd and making his way to the gate to dismiss one of his security guards, “Excuse me, may I ask what’s going on here?”

It happens the moment he sees the young man. His entire being clenches, heats in a way it has never done before - he salivates and his teeth ache longingly.

The smell is intoxicating, dizzying, and if Harry were a younger vampire, he might lose control completely. As it is, he tightens his grip on himself and lifts his brow, “How can I help you, young man?”

Big sea-green eyes stare up at him, blinking slowly, his cheeks flush with life, “Yer… yer him,” his eyes quickly move past Harry and then back, “I-I need… to talk to you.”

Harry holds out his hand, touching the security guard briefly, “If you would be so kind.”

“Apologies, sir,” the woman bows to him and Harry motions for her to open the gate for the young man.

“‘Fanks, guv,” he says as he walks past, fixing his jacket, “Didn’t know ‘ow else to get ahold o’ you, other than goin’ to one o’ these things.”

Harry nods in understanding, offering his hand as he tries to keep his fangs from coming out a second time, it wouldn’t help his situation at all to spook a commoner like he’s already done half the reporters he was speaking with, “Harry Hart, how can I help you?”

“Eggsy,” the young man says, then blushes harder and Harry’s nose is nothing short of throttled by the scent as blood rushes upwards, “Gary Unwin, but I go by E-Eggsy, I mean. I…” he leans in, speaking lowly as he takes Harry’s hand, “I ‘ave to tell you som’fin important, but we can’t do it here.”

“If you were planning on it being a secret,” Harry says as cameras start flashing around them, “Perhaps this might not have been the best way to tell me.”

“I dun care,” Eggsy shakes his head, “All I ask is you keep me from bein’ off’d.”

Harry motions for Eggsy to follow him back, “If you’ll go inside, my men are prepared to make sure of your safety so that we can talk privately.”

Eggsy nods and Harry’s never seen a young man walk with such confidence and assurance, right past a large crowd of reporters. He only glances at Harry once and he can tell that the both of them feel the unusual pull from one another.

He blinks away the scent, steeling his shoulders as he steps back onto the podium and leans in to the microphone to address the crowd once more, “I’m sorry, no further questions today.”

“Mr. Hart,” they all start shouting to try and stop him.

Harry only catches a few questions as he walks off backstage as well.

_“Can you explain to us what just happened?”_

_“House Charlot-”_

_“Do you know that man?”_

_“Are you targeting Black Blood next?”_

_“Is this a love interest?”_

_“One more question, Mr. Hart.”_

He smiles once more at the crowd, waves, and dismisses himself.

Behind the backdrop and into the building, Harry is greeted by the young man - Eggsy - and Hamish looking annoyed and confused as he holds his slate close and watches Eggsy with a skeptical gaze.

“Alright,” Harry motions to Eggsy, “How can I help you, Mr. Unwin?”

“Just Eggsy’s fine,” the young man says, eyes constantly flicking to Harry’s mouth, “Yer fangs gonna be out like that all the time?”

Harry’s eye widens and he covers his mouth once more, “Sorry,” he looks to Hamish, “It can’t be helped, I’m afraid.”

Hamish looks like he has about fifteen questions when his own eyes suddenly widen and he glances around, “Uh… Severen,” he motions to another agent, “Y’e’ve got a vial on hand, don’t you?”

Harry takes it gratefully when the man offers it and he turns his back, “If you’ll excuse me,” he doesn’t wait to see or hear Eggsy’s reaction, quickly draining the vial and keeping his back turned as he tries to cleanse his mouth, “Sorry about that.”

“Forgot to do the deed?”

Harry briefly glances at him, “No, never,” he says and looks away again, “But my circumstances differ from others.”

“Ah,” Eggsy says, sounding curious but not pressing despite it, “You gonna be okay, guv?”

“Mhm,” Harry hums as he finally turns back, “Better?”

“Not that I minded them before.”

Harry smiles apologetically, “How can I help you, Eggsy?”

“I’m a survivor of _The Bleeding Heart_. I was part of the _Carson Warehouse_ relief like four weeks ago?”

Harry’s brows narrow, feeling something take over him, and now he can see it on the boy. The slightly sunken, tired eyes, the clear sign of malnutrition, neglect, miscare. If it were any other human, Harry would be furious, but with the confliction he’s already feeling, something nasty reels inside of him, prepared to do damage.

But the damage has already been done.

Harry dispatched a good amount of the perpetrators himself, so he focuses on that, tells himself to breathe, that justice has already been served.

“Alright,” he says tightly, frowning, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you saved my life,” Eggsy responds, swallowing tightly, “But I… there are two others, and they were never recovered.”

Harry’s gaze saddens, “My apologies, we… did what we could.”

“No, you misunderstand,” Eggsy then elaborates, “They’re not dead. I know they’re not. Might actually be worse than that, really. They’re part of something else.”

Harry feels Hamish tense at his side.

“Vamps ain’t the only ones doin’ bad things.”

“Werewolves?” Harry asks tentatively, though he’s rarely heard of such.

“Humans,” Eggsy says then, looking down, “My step dad, fer one. Vamps ain’t the ones running the blood farms, not really, not all of them. _Pulse_ is vamp-run, but most of the rest aren’t. Me, my sis, and my mum was taken in by humans.”

Harry glances at Hamish, but keeps his gaze set on Eggsy, “Any chance you have a lead?”

“I can d’you one better. Can I see a secure phone one of ye’s got?”

Harry takes his very own from his pocket and unlocks it, offering it to Eggsy curiously.

It takes the young man a moment, then he holds it out, “So my sis has a tracker in ‘er skin. That’s actually put in by /them/ fer kids under ten.”

“And you got the information?” Hamish asks skeptically, “How?”

Eggsy shrugs, glancing away from Harry then, but he meets his eye when he says the actual words, “They’re human, right? They got weaknesses.”

Harry is both disgusted and curious by the statement, handing over the phone to Hamish, “Get Orlok and Spike on this.”

“Done,” Hamish says at once, taking his leave of them.

Harry stares at Eggsy for a long moment, “Thank you for this.”

“Thank /you/,” Eggsy says, “Fer bein’... who you are, I guess.”

“Well, you’re under our protection now,” Harry responds, “I feel as though I still have a thousand questions for you.”

Eggsy holds out his arms, “Bring it, then.”

Harry raises a brow, “You’re awfully put together for a survivor of a farm. Most of the humans I helped out of there myself were just as terrified of me as I thought they would be.”

“Yeah, but I know better,” Eggsy shrugs, “Not all of ‘em are brought in /from/ the sheets. I was… lucky?” he makes a face, “If that’s what you can call it.”

Harry holds out his arm then, motioning for Eggsy to walk with him as he leads his way through the back of the building, “What do you mean you know better? I’m assuming you mean that humans were the ones doing everything, but vampires were still involved in the process.”

“More humans done more damage to humans than vamps ever did,” Eggsy says, watching him, “I ain’t actually been ‘urt by a fang. But I been tossed by loads of ‘umans.”

“And by ‘sheets’… you mean..?”

“Need me to spell it out?” Eggsy swallows, looking nervous then, maybe ashamed, “I was bought by this rich prick, me first, when I was about six.”

Harry feels sick to his stomach.

“Bloke was real twisted. Bought me first, then wanted to collect the whole lot once I started gettin’ older. ‘Ow fucked up is that? Bought me mum, my sis too since mum was up the duff. Daisy ‘ad a tracker put in an’ that’s when I made it my goal to get that information. I don’t think ‘e knows I know it, even now.”

“How did you get sent out to the farm?”

Eggsy presses his lips together as they step into the back of the car, Harry offering for him to go in first. He doesn’t answer for a few minutes, but when he speaks up his voice is something low and deadly.

“I done a lot I regret,” Eggsy admits, “But I always tried to keep ‘er safe. We was just there fer his amusement, it was a matter of time before ‘e stopped bein’ pleased with me. I wasn’t six no more, after all.”

Harry knows this. He knows of family loyalty, sibling loyalty, though he’s never had it himself and it’s been a long, long time since he’s had any sense of family. But he knows humans. He can only imagine the fire that went through Eggsy when the situation arose.

“But ‘e started so slow,” Eggsy says, jaw so tight it might snap in half, “I didn’t even notice. Touchin’ ‘er ‘air, touchin’ ‘er back. Saw ‘im touch ‘er lower and I broke a plate.”

Harry closes his eye.

“And then I walked in and… and…” he shakes his head.

“You don’t have to say, Eggsy,” Harry breathes out.

“‘E ‘ad ‘er on the bed with ‘er legs open…”

“I’m so sorry.”

Eggsy shakes his head again, “I ain’t sorry about what I did. Lucky I lived after that. But when you stop being useful in the sheets, you start bein’ useful in other ways. We’d ‘eard of it, of course. E’d even threatened me wi’v it before.”

Things between them are silent once more. Eggsy is still tense but Harry is only partly grateful that it isn’t caused by himself.

Eggsy watches the trees going by the darkly tinted windows and Harry observes him, seeing that still childlike wonder in his eyes.

“You got any other questions, guv?”

Harry had almost forgotten what had prompted the inquiry in the first place, “Ah, I suppose I do. I’m most curious as to how you’ve only been in rehabilitation for a few weeks, yet you seem…”

“Not all shaken and stirred?” Eggsy asks, tone teasing, then he shrugs, “Mum always said I ‘ad a strong spirit, guess that’s right. I ‘fink I ‘ave a bit of PTSD… some nightmares. But I’m free, and I ain’t gonna let no’fin’ stop me from enjoyin’ that.”

“And you left the center?”

“They’re probably not happy about it,” Eggsy confirms, nodding, “But they weren’t tellin’ me nothin’ I didn’t already know. _‘Yer not a victim, yer a survivor’, ‘it’s not yer fault, don’t blame yerself’, ‘talk about yer feelings’,_ all that shit. It’s helpful to others, not to me. What’s helpful to me is catchin’ the fuckers. Makin’ ‘em pay. Freein’ my mum and sis.”

“Agreed,” Harry says, smiling sadly, “Can’t have said it better myself.”

Eggsy looks at him again, “So I ducked out with what I ‘ad on my back and here I am,” he holds out his arms.

Harry lifts a brow, “You escaped… today?”

“I did.”

“And the first thing you did was come to me?”

“I heard about you. The vamps that pulled me out kept referin’ to you. Then I watched a few of yer press conferences, includin’ the one made the day you was sworn in. They got all that pretty much playin’ on repeat at the center.”

If Harry had been human, he might’ve felt the color rise to his cheeks, “Ah, do they?”

Eggsy nods, “Never saw you wi’v yer fangs out, though. That was weird. Everything okay?”

Harry smiles at Eggsy, the younger man was /sharp/, wasn’t he?

“What do you know of vampires?”

Eggsy shakes his head, “That they exist?” he chuckles, “That’s about it, guv. Other than what you’ve spoken about in those press conferences, no’fin’ else. I didn’t see today’s, but I suppose I will get to it at some point.”

“Ah,” and that’s the moment when Harry decides it’s best he doesn’t say anything more about /why/ his fangs came out during the conference. To tell such a beautiful young man that they have a bond unlike any other, to take away his newfound freedom, Harry would rather die the true death than to take that away from Eggsy. Especially after everything he’s been through.

“No’ gonna tell me then?” Eggsy just smiles, not seeming to take any offense, “None of them was upsettin’ you? I know they can get nosey, that lot, from what I’ve heard them askin’.”

“They truly can, but no,” Harry stares at him, willing the younger man’s face into his memory.

It seems unfair that fate would deal him such a hand, but he supposes Eggsy’s is just as bad as his own. It doesn’t have to stay that way, though, and Harry will do everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	4. Chapter 4

“Can you tell me about vampires?”

Harry’s eye widens, “I… suppose I should, shouldn’t I? You’re in this world now, it’s only fitting you know everything you can to protect yourself.”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Eggsy shrugs, “I ain’t askin’ fer that reason, but I guess it’s better than any, really.”

“Other than what I’ve said in my press conferences, what would you like to know?”

“Well you never talk about the basics, tell me about somma those.”

Harry sits back in his seat, lifting his chin as he stares towards the ceiling of the car, “Sunlight doesn’t kill us, but it does weaken us and makes it hard to think - we don’t catch on fire, though. We can, /of course/ see ourselves in the mirror.”

“Judgin’ by ‘ow good you look and ‘ow perfect yer hair is, that don’t surprise me.”

Harry tries not to feel too pleased by the statement, but it certainly does affect him, “Thank you, Eggsy.”

“Any time,” Eggsy says, throwing him a look, “Any time at /all/.”

Being openly flirted with isn’t something that Harry is all too familiar with. It’s an alien concept in his life and has been for a thousand years. In his days, it wasn’t as much as taboo as it is today, but even with vampires it was still… frowned upon, even then.

He isn’t sure if Eggsy knows it is, but he doesn’t feel the need to correct him. Instead, he indulges in it, enjoys it, allows it to make him feel alive unlike anything has for as long as he can remember.

“Thresholds aren’t a bother, either,” Harry continues, “And we’re completely immortal. Even starvation can’t kill us, though it can certainly cause its own problems. We can become very weak, inactive, even rendered unconscious from lack of proper feeding.”

“Than ‘ow do you die the ‘true death’? That’s what you called it, right?”

Harry only glances at him out of his periphery, “The classic way. The ‘Buffy method’.”

“Stake to the ‘eart?”

“Indeed,” Harry nods in confirmation, “Even that is tricky though, especially for humans. You have to have good strength to pierce our sternum, and the wood doesn’t work if it’s been painted over.”

“What about beheading?”

“We regenerate.”

“From the ‘ead or from the body?”

“Body.”

“Fire?”

“No.”

Eggsy starts to sound excited, “What else is and isn’t true?”

“Well,” Harry tilts his head, “We don’t sleep at all, no coffin, we do not shapeshift, we cast shadows, we don’t turn to dust when we die, we do /not/ have special abilities despite what people may have you believe. Though we are stronger than average in strength, hearing, sight, etcetera.”

Eggsy stares at him with an expression unfamiliar to Harry - at least where he’s concerned, “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yer a thousand years old, right? What do you like to do?”

Harry motions outward.

“That’s werk.”

“Important, life-changing work, yes.”

Eggsy shrugs, “/Other/ than being perfect, yes. What else d’you do?”

Harry raises his brows. He’s far from perfect. If Hamish heard this young man speaking about Harry in such a way, he’d fall down laughing on his arse.

“I…” Harry clears his throat, “I suppose I don’t do much. I read, I learn, I study. I’m fluent in forty-six languages. I’m a natural at most instruments, I watch films and read books. I travel when I can.”

“Forty-/six/ languages?” Eggsy asks slowly, “I can barely speak english.”

Harry chuckles, “Yes, well, when you have all the time in the world to learn, I suppose there’s no reason not to. That said, I’ve known older vampires that still just speak the one.”

“What’s it like to be bitten by a vampire?”

Harry frowns in confusion and looks at Eggsy then, “Pardon?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Do you not know?”

Eggsy shakes his head, “I was in a blood farm, not a nest.”

“I assumed though, as you can imagine, that some would… still want to drink from the vein.”

“Why?” Eggsy asks curiously, “Is that any different?”

“Getting it fresh from the neck or wrist? At the perfect temperature?” Harry lists, “Feeding and having nothing between their flesh and our mouth? I’ve never met a vampire that would say drinking from a blood bag feels or tastes better.”

Eggsy considers his words, but still shakes his head, “Never.”

“Interesting.”

“Do /you/ drink from the vein?” Eggsy presses.

“All agents of Glenarvon drink from the vein before missions,” Harry explains, then elaborates when he sees the young man’s eyes widen, “They are… willing participants, of course. We would never do anything to hurt humans, I would /not/ allow it. But there are groups of humans that volunteer.”

Eggsy makes a face, “What are they? Perverted?”

“Sometimes,” Harry says honestly and motions to Eggsy, “Others are people that either were directly affected by our missions passed, or have family that were, and sign up for the program. They’re all paid and are under no contract obligations. I would never drink from someone that didn’t want me to, even if I was starving.”

“You never told me what it’s like.”

“My first and only time was like something out of a nightmare, honestly,” Harry tells him, “I was Kingsman then, fifty-three years old, on a mission… this was just around the time that those sorts of stories and myths were becoming a reality. All I ever felt was pain. So I’ll have to take other’s words for it. Most say it is /quite/ pleasurable, and I suppose it is, when your neck isn’t being ripped open like mine was.”

Eggsy lifts his brows, waiting for Harry to say more, and when he doesn’t he nudges Harry, “Well?”

Harry tenses only slightly, “First we lick the wound,” he advises, “Our saliva is thick and works as a numbing agent when applied directly to the skin. Some vampires skip this step, one way or another our saliva will kick in. I’ve always considered it bad mannered, though, to bite first - why cause such unnecessary pain and discomfort? Though I suppose my past experience with it speaks for itself. The bite itself, when numbed, is supposedly arousing. It certainly is for vampires themselves, and humans have confirmed such a thing plenty of times. But it was never something I felt when I was turned. All I felt was pain and terror, and then nothing.”

Eggsy curls in against his seat, frowning, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Harry says and smiles sadly at him, “It was long ago, another time entirely.”

“So… where’r you takin’ me?”

“A safe house, of course.”

“Will I see you?”

Harry’s eye narrows slightly, “No. You’ll be safe. But I don’t go to the safe houses. Vampires rarely do.”

Eggsy looks displeased at this knowledge though, “What if I want to stay around you?”

“Why would you want such a thing?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer, Eggsy.”

Eggsy huffs, “I dunno I feel this… this…” he motions out in front of him, almost like a woman trying to say she’s pregnant or something, “This weird feeling. I don’t…” he looks back at Harry again, visibly shaken, “Is that weird? It’s weird, right? Vampires can’t thrall people, can they?”

Harry feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise, that same soothing heat run through him. God, if there’s anything he /hasn’t/ felt in the last thousand years, it’s warmth.

“No, they most certainly cannot. None of the ‘magic’ aspects are true.”

“I don’t wanna be put in a safe ‘ouse if yer not gonna be there.”

“Eggsy-”

“Leave me on the street if yer gonna do that,” Eggsy says stubbornly, “I’m safe on my own.”

Harry frowns, “I thought you wanted protection.”

“/Yer/ protection,” Eggsy insists, “I don’t wanna be no cast off.”

“I’m hardly casting you off,” Harry feels guilty at Eggsy’s words, looking away, “But… if you want to come with me… it might complicate things.”

“Why’s that? Afraid I’m gonna see somethin’ I won’t like?”

“Yes,” Harry admits shamelessly, “Such as a refrigerator full of blood and not an ounce of anything else in sight.”

Eggsy shrugs, “Lived with less.”

“I doubt it.”

“Just order me some take away and stock up on real food later.”

Harry motions for the driver to change directions, then turns better in the seat to truly look at Eggsy, “You must be aware that what you’re asking of me is… a tad unorthodox, and perhaps a bit scandalous.”

“Sure I can live with bo’f of those things,” Eggsy says like what he’s agreeing to isn’t /that/ big of a deal.

But Harry can’t say no to him.

He feels weak-willed against the younger man, yet another alien concept. The very thought of making Eggsy unhappy fills his gut with misery. So he simply nods and leans his head back once more. Nothing good can come of this.

It’s already difficult enough, having Eggsy next to him. Having him in his /home/? Sleeping in his bed. He doesn’t have a guest room. Once upon a time, he did, but its since then been replaced and filled with every hobby he’s worked on for the last few hundred years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry watches silently as Eggsy looks around the front room.

“You… ever thought of openin’ a library?” he asks, walking up to one of the shelves to get a better look, “Or a museum.”

“Not particularly,” Harry says as a small smile plays his lips, “There’s a downstairs bathroom, and the kitchen is here,” he motions to it when Eggsy looks at him, “But I’ll… see about getting some dishes and cutlery for you.”

Eggsy nods, “Guess it makes sense you wouldn’t have any of that. Where am I sleepin’? Don’t suppose you’ve got a bed.”

“That I actually /do/ have,” Harry responds, guiding Eggsy up the stairs, “Though I only have the one.”

Eggsy actually laughs and Harry doesn’t realize why until he gives the younger man a confused look and Eggsy nudges him, “Suppose you gotta do the deed /somewheres/, not that walls and tables and couches don’t werk just as well.”

Harry looks affronted.

“Relax,” Eggsy says then and smiles wider, “Doubt I’ll be lookin’ too ‘ard at the sheets,” then he lowers his voice, “‘less you /want/ me on my stomach.”

Harry swallows tightly and looks away. Dear lord, this young man may be the true death of him yet.

He shows Eggsy the bedroom first, opening the door for him and letting him walk ahead, “If you’re to stay here, we might start to gather a sort of wardrobe for you,” he says as he watches Eggsy walk around the room, again looking at any and everything, “Is that the only change of clothes you have?”

Eggsy nods, reaching out to thumb through some of the records, “Nice taste in music.”

“A rather broad one, as well,” Harry admits, “I suppose you can wear some of my sleepwear for the night, we can get you something proper tomorrow.”

“Yeah, alright,” Eggsy agrees easily, turning back to him, “What’ll you do while I’m sleepin’?”

“Paperwork, most likely,” Harry tells him, hands rested in his pockets as Eggsy continues to peruse the room, “Put in some appointments for you, perhaps contact the center you were at.”

Eggsy looks at him quickly.

“The last thing /I/ need is a scandal. I just want to make sure everything is taken care of and that they understand the situation.”

“Right.”

“You’re staying here,” Harry assures him and then motions back, “You want to see the other rooms on this floor?”

Eggsy nods at once, “Yes, Harry,” he says and follows him, brushing their arms together.

Harry makes sure to move just a slight step away from him, showing him the closet in the hall, where he’s stored a number of things he may need in an emergency; his office, which once was quite baren and has since been filled to the brim with filing cabinets and a number of exotic weapons from marks and cases he solved - Eggsy finds this room particularly fascinating; and lastly what was once the master bedroom.

Since the sixties, he changed the living space around quite a bit, removing what was in the guest room and making that the ‘bedroom’, and then converting the largest room in the house into what Harry often referred to as the ‘hobby room’. His current obsession, the harp, placed in the center of the room. There’s a piano in the left corner, drum set just to the right of that, and the walls are littered with string and wind instruments.

Eggsy stares around in wonder, “Holy… shit,” he says numbly, stepping up to the drum set first, then looking back at Harry and laughing, “You’ve practiced these?”

“I like to think I play quite well, actually,” Harry says, smirking, “Things such as these are simply fascinating for a vampire,” he motions around them, “They require a greater amount of control and delicacy that I don’t often practice in the presence of others such as myself.”

“Cuz yer strong?”

Harry nods, then he takes up one of his spare sets of drumsticks, holding them out to Eggsy, “Even something as simple as this,” he lets Eggsy take them into his hands, and then reaches out to clasp just above, immediately splintering the wood and breaking it into pieces with just the slightest bit of pressure.

Eggsy’s eyes widen.

“It’s why I /like/ to practice,” Harry tells him as he steps around the room himself, reaching up to touch the guitar tentatively before taking it down, “It helps me to keep those restraints coiled tightly, so that it’s second nature to withhold.”

Eggsy walks closer as Harry slings the strap over his shoulder, not bothering with the pick before he starts to strum the instrument gently, “String instruments must be the hardest then.”

Harry nods, “Which is why the harp is center stage,” he glances towards it, “Only just started on it a few months ago. Sometimes I get so lost playing it that I go through several strings in a swipe. I’ve gotten rather good at replacing them.”

“You’re quite good at /that/,” Eggsy motions to the guitar, “Anything I might know?”

“You underestimate my free time,” Harry responds and changes the tune he’s thrumming at once, watching Eggsy’s eyes tighten and focus, glancing from his face to his hands.

“... Really?” Eggsy asks in disbelief and then laughs, “Fuck, Harry, don’t tell me /you/ had Beatle fever.”

Harry glances at him, “How ridiculous,” he huffs, “You say that like it’s something one just gets over.”

Eggsy laughs.

And then Harry slows the song, strumming carefully, “I rather liked the reimagined version from the _Across The Universe_ film, though. Nothing beats the original, but it was quite gentle.”

“Ya, it wasn’t bad,” Eggsy agrees, looking around the room again, “And to think people are under the impression that vampires are dull and boring. Here you are playing every instrument under the sun. I don’t even /know/ most of these.”

Harry places the guitar back on the wall, joining Eggsy’s side, “Yes, well, this hobby has been a long time coming. All the other ones I’ve… perhaps overdone.”

“What the hell /is/ this thing?” Eggsy asks, tilting his head to the side.

“An asor,” Harry explains, “A rather ancient instrument that some few vampires still hold the skill of crafting. Hamish got me this one about three decades ago. It’s quite medieval in comparison to others, but makes some interesting music.”

“And this one?”

Harry smiles to himself, “Have you ever seen the original series of Star Trek?”

Eggsy looks at him and then shakes his head, “Nah.”

* * *

“Why’re we doin’ this first?” Eggsy asks, arms out and legs spread slightly.

Harry, with his back to the young man, resists the urge to at least glance at him, “The sooner we have this done, the sooner we can have a few suits made for you.”

“You mean I’m gonna dress like a proper gentleman?”

“Of course.”

“Any chance yer gonna get me… something more comfortable to wear on my own?”

Harry chuckles, “I can, of course. We do need some sleepwear among other things. What would you like?”

“I dunno, some trackies, some sneakers, some /loose-fitting/ shirts and stuff,” Eggsy says and Harry chances a look, just to meet his eyes.

“Whatever you wish, Eggsy.”

Eggsy stares at him, smiles back, “Thanks, guv. Really.”

* * *

Harry watches Eggsy shift everything around in the refrigerator, making space for things he needs to be kept cold, it’s unnerving to see the younger man’s hands touch the blood bags and move them aside. It’s even /more/ unnerving when Eggsy places the milk and bottles of water beside them.

“‘Ow often d’you drink?” Eggsy asks, glancing back at him, “It’s been hours and you ‘aven’t ‘ad a drop.”

“Of course I have.”

Eggsy stands back upright, looking confused, “When? I ‘aven’t seen you do it. And I been watchin’ you real close.”

“While you were having your fitting, when I excused myself from the room, do you remember that?”

“You was gone like a minute.”

Harry stares at him silently, lifting his brows.

“That fast?” Eggsy looks visibly offended, “‘ow can you enjoy a meal that fast?”

“It’s not really meant to be enjoyed,” Harry says as he offers a few more bottles of water to Eggsy to add into the refrigerator, “Vials of blood are hardly appetizing, so it’s not meant for more than settling the appetite.”

“You ever miss food?”

“I don’t really remember what it tastes like,” Harry admits, “That, and I imagine flavors have changed after a thousand years. So… well, yes - I miss it more often than not. But food culture is quite different these days. I have taken some culinary classes out of curiosity, but I’m afraid the talent is wasted.”

Eggsy nods slowly, “You hungry now?”

Harry glances at the blood bags, “I… will need real sustenance soon.”

“Might as well, I’m eatin’ too, right?”

“I daresay you’ll likely lose your appetite.”

“Not possible,” Eggsy argues, “I’m always fucking ravenous,” he winks at Harry, “And I seen a lot worse than a few pints of blood.”

Harry feels himself folding at the opportunity, it wouldn’t hurt to humor the younger man. And Harry’s had nothing but Eggsy’s scent around him for the last few hours. He might as well.

“If you insist.”

Eggsy grins and takes one of the bags, tossing it to him and closing the refrigerator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Putting this on lockdown for the next week while I STRUGGLE to beat NaNoWriMo. Good god, I've got some making up to do.
> 
> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	6. Chapter 6

**AUGUST**

“One minor problem.”

Harry looks up from his slate, barely able to see Eggsy’s shoulder just peeking out of the bathroom, “Yes?”

“I dunno how to… er… put… er… this-” he sounds like he’s struggling.

Harry stands, leaving the thin surface on the bedspread and walking into the bathroom to assist him, “Ah,” he reaches out, flipping up the collar and taking the tie from Eggsy’s shaking hands, “Allow me?”

“Please,” Eggsy says and stares up at him as he slips the tie into place, folding the fabric, “Am I always gonna have to dress for these things?”

“Afraid so,” Harry tells him, “If you want to come with me, you have to dress for the occasion, no matter how uncomfortable it may be.”

“/Very/.”

“You look good, though,” Harry steps back, giving him a onceover, “I knew the dark blue would suit you best, but… my goodness.”

Eggsy’s cheeks heat and he holds out his arms, “Not bad? I don’t look like shit painted over?”

“Not at all,” Harry says, “Might I..?”

“Wha’?”

“Style your hair?”

Eggsy lifts a brow and chuckles, “Yeah, alright.”

Harry combs through it, fixing the parting of a few stray hairs, “You have lovely hair for this, so much more behaved than my own.”

“Yer hair is always done up.”

“With good reason.”

Eggsy watches him, smiling widely, “What’s it like unkempt?”

“May the world never know,” Harry mutters under his breath, taking up a comb and a few other products from the sink.

“Can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me when I say that it is.”

“Is it curly?”

“Ridiculously so,” Harry admits, “In my youth, my hair was something I always struggled with. It wasn’t until my short stint in the army and then in Kingsman where I finally found a look that suited me. I’m lucky that I was changed at such a prime moment, just as my hair thinned enough to maintain.”

Eggsy closes his eyes, breathing from his mouth, “That actually feels… really nice.”

Harry swallows tightly, that just the scent of the younger man’s breath can make his teeth ache is still unnerving even after being around it for sometime.

“It always feels nice being cared for by someone else,” Harry says, smiling, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes give the opportunity up to some of our stylists in Glenarvon. David and Lestat can work wonders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from NaNoWriMo and I murdered it. Posts here will resume on Thursday to be every Monday and Thursday, just wanted to get this out a little early, since it's short.
> 
> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k, as well as a third part coming soon) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	7. Chapter 7

**SEPTEMBER**

“You sure you want to do this?”

“I need to.”

“Not really. Chester wouldn’t have.”

Harry glances at Eggsy and frowns when he turns back to Hamish, “When will you stop comparing my legacy to that of Chester King’s?”

“Probably never. He’s the only reference I have.”

“A shame, that.”

“May your reign last just as long,” Hamish says dryly, looking down at his slate, “Hopefully longer,” he mutters, “You realize ninety percent of the questions they’re going to ask you are gonna be about Eggsy?”

Harry nods.

“And? That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me, but I’ve been open with them enough already,” Harry says, “They’ve been parading around pictures of my fanged mishaps for long enough, don’t you think?”

“I thought it would’ve died down by now.”

“That makes two of us,” Harry looks away when Hamish reaches out to fix his tie, “But I haven’t been able to say a word for nearly a month, it’s time to address their questions; professional or otherwise.”

Eggsy touches his arm, “Just… don’t-”

“Don’t give your name,” Harry nods, cupping the back of his neck, “I know, my dear boy, I know.”

“You want me out there too?”

“Whatever you like,” Harry tells him, “You can stand just back behind me, if you want. But you can just as well stay here with Mircalla and Barlow.”

Eggsy shrugs and then proceeds to follow Harry out onto the platform to address the public once again.

Harry straightens his shoulders, looking out at them calmly, “It has been twenty-eight days since I last addressed the public, and for this I do apologize. We’ve had some important activity to follow up on in the last few weeks that has been… very sensitive material, I’m sure you all will understand. We’ve worked diligent, long hours to apprehend everyone left that was involved with _The Bleeding Heart_.

“ _Red Spot_ , as well, was a complete success. Our partnership with _The Open Heart Rehabilitation Center_ here in London has resulted in two new establishments being opened today to welcome in current and future survivors of blood farms.”

He pauses at the applause, bowing his head slightly.

“Our cousins in America have also started donating to the centers in hopes of stabilizing a lasting foundation that - once these farms have been brought to justice - will continue to serve the public through support of survivors and whatever may lie ahead. It is my hope that they will eventually be staples in society, but not so completely utilized as they are today and will be in the coming months.”

A few people laugh.

“I say that in hopes that this sort of burden will not be commonplace in the future ahead of us,” Harry continues, “No one should suffer as these humans have been made to suffer. No one should have to feel as though their life is left to the will of others more ‘fortunate’ than they are by being given the bite. We need to accept responsibility for our actions, and I’ll take on all of them on my own, if I have to. I can only hope that my peers will begin to understand the strain this has put on so many helpless people.”

Some of the crowd bow their heads with him, a few others clapping once more.

Harry straightens again, “I have chosen to start my legacy with openness and transparency. And though there are things that must be kept from the public so that we may do our jobs, I am still willing to open the floor for questioning once again. I only ask that you approach inquiries with the same care and respect that I have shown in turn. Please.”

He motions to the man at the front, the first to raise a hand.

“Mr. Hart, are you going to speak at all about what happened on July fourteenth?”

Harry smiles slightly, “Do you think I would forget such a dreadful blunder?” the people laugh, the man that made the inquiry included, “An unfortunate situation to find myself in, I’ll admit, but you all know that I am only a vampire. Slip-ups can occur, even with someone as well-trained in restraint as myself. Next question.”

“Was it because of the young man standing behind you?”

Harry only glances back at Eggsy for a moment, “Most of the reporters here today remember the situation two months ago. This young man-” he acknowledges Eggsy with his open hand, “-came to the conference to speak to me directly about a concern that our agents are currently looking into and have been since that very day. As some of you may be aware, it isn’t always easy just to phone me at home,” more laughter, “So he tried to get a word in with me by meeting me here.

“Was my reaction partly because of him? I won’t lie to you, it was.”

More hands fly up immediately after the words leave his mouth.

“Yes, next question?”

The woman looks from Eggsy back to him, “I can’t help but point out that it’s been two full /months/ and he’s still at your side, why is that?”

“I have simply found him to be…” Harry looks at Eggsy once more, “Rather enjoyable company, I’ll admit. Apart from that, his role in a current case we’re working is quite vital. Next question.”

“Are you going to gift him with the bite?”

Harry lifts a brow, shaking his head, “Absolutely not. Next question?”

“Why not? Why won’t you be giving him the bite?”

Harry smiles and holds out his arms, “Because he doesn’t want it. Next question, please.”

A young man interrupts the continuous train of questioning aimed at Eggsy for just the briefest of moments, “With your attention primarily focused on blood farms, have you been able to reach out to Kingsman and their Arthur for a chance to have a sit down?”

“I have,” Harry says, “We haven’t been able to arrange a good time for them, as they are currently leading a very deep and thorough ongoing investigation into something I’m not at liberty to speak of. But I expect we’ll have a proper meetup before the year ends. Next year looks to be shaping up to be a good one, if you ask me, I’m optimistic for the future of our organizations to begin to work parallel to one another, instead of at opposite ends. Next question.”

“Are we ever going to learn the name of the young man behind you?”

Harry chuckles, as do a few others, “I think it’s best to keep something like that from the public as long as I can, sorry.”

“So you’ll give us nothing?”

“He is a /dear/ boy,” Harry says, glancing back at Eggsy - the younger man’s cheeks all red and orange as their gaze meets, “That’s all I can say about that. Next question.”

“Is he your soul scent?”

Harry looks at the woman, eye widening ever so slightly, “Do people often throw that term around so lightly these days?” he recovers, smiling again and earning the chuckles of a few reporters, “Have some respect for the young man, will you? You don’t even know his name,” more people laugh.

 _“Good recovery,”_ Hamish mutters lowely.

“I think that’s enough about this lovely boy, don’t you?” Harry asks, waving dismissively, “Who has their questions aimed elsewhere? Yes, you?”

* * *

Harry looks up from the large stack of paperwork and smiles when he sees Roxy and Hamish step in, “Ah, yes, come in, please. I was just finishing reviewing your request, Barlow. Rather formal, don’t you think?”

Hamish takes a seat, “Like you’d expect any less.”

“Not at all,” Harry signs the last sheet and quickly stamps it, “You’re approved, of course. Now, you do understand that should any emergencies arrive, you will be temporarily pulled from your time off?”

“Of course.”

“Báthory is to be off immediately once she’s six months in,” Harry looks back through the paperwork, “Put to a desk until such time.”

“Understood, sir,” Roxy says and glances down at her lap.

Harry furrows his brows, “Don’t you want some time off before that to prepare?” he asks Hamish, “You’ve got to set up the room, make proper changes around the house, I doubt you’re planning on anyone doing that other than yourself.”

“You think I should?”

“I don’t like the idea of her spending a month or two here without you,” Harry admits, “But she shouldn’t be doing much, and that’ll fall to you.”

Hamish considers it, looking to Roxy, “What do you think?”

Roxy smiles and shrugs, “It’s a good idea.”

“It is. But what about you?”

“I’m an adult,” Roxy smiles shyly, “And Harry will watch after me.”

Harry nods, “Of course.”

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“Very well then.”

“Good,” Harry says calmly, marking out a few things and making the appropriate changes before offering the paper to them, “If you’ll just initial the adjustments.”

Both Hamish and Roxy sign and date the paper, handing it back.

Harry smiles, glances it over, and then stands to shake their hands, “I’m delighted. And I believe a congratulations is in order.”

Roxy smiles back, “Thank you, Harry.”

“Likewise.”

Harry kisses her cheek and does the same to Hamish, “How about you two take off early, have a good night together?”

He shares a knowing look with Roxy, taking his seat once more and unbuttoning his jacket finally.

Goodness, to think of the way the world is changing around him.

Seems faster each and every coming day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (12.4k words and a second part that is 10k, as well as a third part coming soon) and has been for... quite some time. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	8. Chapter 8

**OCTOBER**

Harry glances from the screen when Eggsy slumps against him suddenly, mouth slightly open, lashes fanned out, hair falling in his face.

He reaches up, brushing back the strands.

It hadn’t been a particularly action-packed film, but it hadn’t been boring either. Harry was actually enjoying it immensely.

He pauses the playback, shuts down everything, and turns carefully to lift Eggsy up into his arms.

The younger man barely opens his eyes, “Mm, ‘arry?”

“It’s alright, my dear boy,” Harry says softly as he walks up the stairs, “It’s getting rather late, isn’t it?”

“Did I fall asleep?” he mutters, “M’sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

Eggsy reaches up his arms, shifting his weight just enough to wrap them around his neck.

Harry feels what’s left of his heart melt, carrying Eggsy to the bedroom and laying him down carefully in the center of the bed, but the arms don’t unhook from his neck. He tries to remove them, but Eggsy starts to stir, muttering in his sleep.

“Mmm, no… stay…”

Harry swallows, shifting to get into a comfortable position, mindful to not jar Eggsy.

In his sleep, the younger man gravitates to him, arms and legs wrapped tight, his cheek rested in the crook between Harry’s shoulder and chest.

He watches Eggsy in his sleep, palm braced on his lower back to anchor him, his other hand curled tight against his own side. He knew this was going to be a real test against his self control the moment Eggsy’s arms gripped him, but he didn’t anticipate it being so calming.

Eventually, he closes his eye, listening to Eggsy breathing, his heart beats, feeling them calm him in a way that most humans do… quite the opposite.

He loses track of time. Vampires don’t sleep, but he does drift and allow himself to drop into a sort of daydream - or nightdream, as it were.

Eggsy eventually stirs just as the morning light starts to rise and his head lifts from Harry’s chest.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he apologizes, but despite the apology, he quickly tightens his hold and shifts against Harry, “Didn’t mean to keep you.”

Such an interesting phrasing, Harry can certainly empathize.

“It’s quite alright.”

“You gonna be late for work?”

Harry brushes his fingers through Eggsy’s hair, “I think they’ll do without me just fine for a few hours.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy smiles slyly and leans into the touch, closing his eyes, “Any plans?”

Harry shifts slightly to move from the bed, “I must shower and get ready. We're affecting the bust on the mansions later today and there's still a lot of work to get done.”

“Fuck, that's today innit?”

“It is,” Harry smiles warmly at him, “Big day.”

“Big /big/ day,” Eggsy mutters, “Are you… I mean… will you be any part of the team going in for Daisy and my mum?”

“I'm heading that team, yes, of course,” Harry confirms, walking into the bathroom to get undressed.

The shower is quick, a process that takes precisely five minutes and thirty-three seconds, and Harry steps out onto the soft carpet with a towel wrapped securely around his waist, walking into his dressing room and pointedly ignoring the eyes following him.

“I'm glad to know it'll be you,” Eggsy says from the other room, voice low, “I'm grateful for everything you've done, Harry. Yer a good man.”

Harry pulls on his pants and dress shirt, then his trousers, quickly tucking it in and looking out to the younger man, “Thank you, Eggsy. It truly means everything hearing that from you.”

Eggsy smiles, getting up from the bed and walking over to him. Harry's mouth drops open slightly when he reaches up and starts tying Harry's tie, “Well, I mean it, and not just because I'm carryin’ a torch.”

Harry swallows, feeling the itching need in his throat, “Eggsy-”

“I know you don't feel the same way, that's okay,” Eggsy smiles sadly, lifting his shoulders, and then standing on his toes to press a kiss to Harry's cheek, “It's unconventional as all get out, but that's just how I am. I'm sorry.”

“As am I,” Harry breathes tremulously, cupping Eggsy’s cheeks and staring into his eyes, “But know always that it does not detract from my deep adoration and respect for you.”

Eggsy's hands touch his own, tentative, and then he closes his eyes and leans into Harry's right hand.

Harry kisses his forehead and backs away to finish getting dressed, his teeth tingling and his throat burning, “You'll stay at headquarters until I return?”

“Can I actually come on the flight?”

Harry stops and looks at him, eye wide.

“I won't leave the plane or nothin’. I'll stay put. I just… I wanna be there for you.”

“Very well then,” Harry agrees, unable to say no, “So long as you promise to remain on the plane.”

“Done.”

* * *

Eggsy doesn’t remain on the plane.

He somehow convinces Harry to join him on the ride to each location, promising to stay in the car.

Harry accepts that that’s the most he’ll allow, he won’t let Eggsy put himself in danger when everything can be easily taken care of by himself and the other agents of Glenarvon.

Combing his way through the mansions is arduous work, but it would be harder, certainly, if he was not aided by his sensitive hearing. He weaves his way through, incapacitating humans and avoiding doing any real damage in hopes that they'll find Justice fairly, as opposed to by his own hands.

Instead, he leaves them tied up and unable to cause problems with the cleanup team that follows after him.

He only truly meets resistance on the third floor of the second mansion, fighting through armed guards and taking a few bullets to his suit.

Dodging the next shot, he twists around, snapping back the man's arm and breaking his hold on his gun, “Do you really think that's necessary?” he asks lowly, glancing at the two people hiding behind the bed, “And in front of ladies, no manners at all.”

“Fuck you, you fuckin’ fang,” the man starts to spit at him, but Harry slams his palm up into the man's jaw and knocks him out.

He slowly makes his way to the two still cowering, holding his hands up, “I've come to release you from here.”

“No f’ank you,” the woman says, gripping a gun in her shaking hands.

“ _Barlow, is that her?”_ Harry asks under his breath before addressing the woman, “I'm not going to hurt you, honestly, why ever would I?”

“I dunno, maybe b’cause yer a walkin’ corpse?”

_“That's her.”_

“That gives me no reason or right to bring any harm to you or the child,” Harry tries to assure her, “I'm the leader of an organization assigned to dismantle operations such as this. You're free.”

Michelle still looks skeptical, standing upright with the gun pointed at him.

“Might I also advise you that if you really wanted to do harm to me, a gun would not be the way, bullets do no lasting damage to my kind,” Harry says, taking another slow step forward.

“Yer eye tells me diff’rently.”

“Damage that was caused before I became a vampire is irreparable, unfortunately.”

“I'm still not trusting you.”

“You don't need to trust me for me to save your life, all I'm asking is that you give me the opportunity to assist in your rehabilitation. We have centers designed for your particular needs, they're run by humans just the same as you.”

“Again, no f’ank you,” Michelle cocks the gun.

Harry tenses, “Please,” he stops moving, “If you don't trust me, then at least trust the judgment of your son, Eggsy.”

“Eggsy? What's ‘e got to do with anythin’?”

Harry starts to respond when a shot rings out and the bullet hits him in the back of the neck.

He drops limply to the ground, hearing Michelle and the little girl scream before everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 comes to AO3 in the new year, I will continue posting other work, but this trilogy will be on a short hiatus.
> 
> If you can't wait, part 2 AND 3 are already completely written and posted elsewhere. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


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